


Medium Rare

by pyroclastics



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Police, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gun Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 09:09:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10873641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyroclastics/pseuds/pyroclastics
Summary: Criminal AU. Wufan is police chief in Guangzhou and the city's dark side is showing. Another body's found and preliminary forensics hinting that this is yet another of a chain of violent acts. But it's too late tonight and he needs rest from the conflicts of interest crashing through his life.





	Medium Rare

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in April, 2013. One upon a time I felt inclined to expand this into a full universe and this was just the teaser for it, but that never ended up happening... but as a stand alone I think this works still?

Skid marks on the pavement. They're all that's left behind in the not so dark alleyway. How many lamps have been strung across it now? Skid marks aren't the only evidence blocked off behind the bright yellow cautionary tape. How could Wufan forget, really.

Spilt blood and the stiff body of a businessman who once owned it are carefully traced in chalk by another officer, while Wufan looks up at the lights. A bug shoots up into one and immediately falls to the ground. Wufan steps on its carcass.

"Do you suppose it was him?" A female officer asks from his left, looking across the tape at the crowd which seemed to flock at the very idea of murder.

Wufan's lips part but nothing changes in the uncomfortable stillness of the air. A bullet to the neck... that was far too messy. "No." He swallows his reasoning though the hair on his back prickles in denial. He knows better. Every murder lately... every unexplained death... they all had a reason.

"Well, people don't just get shot in the neck, Chief."

She goes back to make sure the medics get the body into the ambulance safely, and hops in with them. Other members of the police force man the area until one pats Wufan on the back. "Another one, this guy sure has everyone on their toes..."

This one wasn't him - Wufan nearly says it, but what right does he have to decide who is a cold blooded killer. Instead he shakes his head and bends down, squatting beside the skid mark. He lets a few fingers brush across it until the dirt is caked on, and as if it could help he lifts his fingers to his nose and gives it a whiff. Of course that's not worth it though, wrinkling his nose and brushing what he can off with his thumb.

"Get this place cleared out within the hour. People live in these buildings...let's not leave them in fear." He tells the others when he's standing again, giving orders for filing the report. "On my desk in the morning. First thing. And get me the autopsy, and a list of everyone who has bought a motorcycle in the entire province in the last week."

He's asking too much and he knows it. The others know it too. But some scrambled mess of what he asks for will be done and right now he has a perp to catch. The hairs on the back of his neck stand still, and every ounce of him agrees.

It takes twenty minutes to confirm. He was right.. which means, truly, that he was a liar. Resting against the side of a drab gray unmarked apartment building is a bike. A bright and sleek new pitch black motorcycle, which Wufan only gets a glimpse of before he speeds on by. No other locations need checking. He was right. More than right, he'd been as on target as the bullet. "Zhang Yixing..." He mutters the name and it slips out of his helmet and turns to ice on the wind. The Changsha Prince turned Guangzhou Devil... that building was... It had to be him. "...idiot, parks the evidence here of all places..."

The empty apartment building held far too many memories. Plus, it was too late at night to settle this score... Not here. Not now. Justice would serve, eventually. He just hoped he could hold up when they did come face to face. The knife wound in Wufan's thigh from the month before had been light, but only because, as Yixing had put so eloquently:

"You have to check your meat first. Slice it. If it's too pink it's not ready yet. Too crisp and it's trash. We're not done, Wufan. I'd hate to take a bite before dinner's been served."

Yixing's own way of toying with his food and flashing his dimpled smile were all that spared Wufan's life. Cast aside on the kitchen floor of a quaint little room on the second level of that same building.

"I want your last meal to be perfect..."

"I hate you." Wufan had spat back, like emotions meant something in the world of crime.

He felt like he deserved that knife wound every single time he recounted the scene, so by the time he parks his bike downstairs it's no surprise his leg is aching. Perhaps that was the devil's way of reminding him. Let the pain remain. Keep checking on the wound. Keep waiting...

The light's on in the bedroom when he gets back. Just the reading lamp on the other side of the bed, and after Wufan makes sure the door is locked tight, he turns toward it. Like the bug to the strung up lamps at the crime scene.

"You're home late." Yixing says softly, closing the magazine he's got on his lap and setting it on the night stand. He rubs his eyes before flashing a smile at Wufan.

Not that Wufan sees it, for he's much too busy stripping off his police chief uniform and locking his gun in its case in the closet. "I hate you.." The words come out dry as sandpaper while Yixing's stretching out under the covers, taking up as much space as possible. When Wufan does turn back, the other's already half asleep, head nestled against far too many pillows and his expression eerily vulnerable.

"Hey." He nudges Yixing. "Turn off the light at least. Or are you an inconsiderate bastard in all aspects of life?" it's a rhetorical question, of course, but Yixing grunts affirmatively before sitting up enough to shut it off.

"Wufan?"

"What?"

"Do you want chocolate chips or bits of strawberry in your pancakes in the morning?"

He kicks Yixing for that comment and his own leg protests the motion, so he lies back and sighs, staring up at the dark ceiling. "Do whatever you want.." Wufan finally answers.

"Don't I always?"

He stays silent for a few moments.

"...Why a gun this time?"

Yixing's already fast asleep.


End file.
